


act upon desire

by deathbyglamour



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, Dreams, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 15:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9555386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathbyglamour/pseuds/deathbyglamour
Summary: Kyoutani hates Yahaba, until he doesn’t.





	

Before the Karasuno game, Kyoutani doesn’t really think about Yahaba. 

He knows him, of course. He doesn’t particularly like him. He’s got everyone on the team classified into one-sentence phrases – Yahaba is ‘goody two-shoes pretty boy.’ He knows Yahaba doesn’t like him either. He’s seen the looks the other boy gives him when he thinks no one else is looking. It makes him wonder, a little bit, if Yahaba is only pretending at being a goody two-shoes. Anyone who can glare like that can’t be spotless. 

So he’s almost expecting it when Yahaba grabs him by the collar and slams him against the wall in front of the captain, coach, and entire opposing team.

There’s something fierce and intense in his eyes as he shouts at Kyoutani, a brightness that sticks in his mind more than whatever choice words he’s shouting. 

The dreams, Kyoutani figures, must be because of that. 

The first dream comes a week after their loss to Karasuno. In the wake of the seniors’ retirement, Yahaba corners him in the locker room. 

“Kyoutani,” he says. “I know we haven’t always gotten along, but if we want to win, that needs to change.” His words have all the hollowness of a rehearsed speech, but somehow this doesn’t upset Kyoutani. 

“Sure,” he says. 

“We –,” Yahaba pauses. “Sure?”

“Sure.”

“Just like that?” He eyes him. 

Kyoutani shrugs. “I want to win too. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Yahaba nods shortly, looking relieved. “Right,” he says. “I’m going to be the captain, you know that, right? I look forward to your support.”

Kyoutani shrugs again, and that’s that. 

Except that night he dreams of the scene again, only this time Yahaba’s smiling. And that smile gets closer and closer, until Yahaba is well into his personal space. Their surroundings are hazy, fading away so that Yahaba is the only thing in focus. 

“Let’s get along, Kyoutani,” Dream-Yahaba says, still smiling. Then he kisses him. 

Kyoutani wakes up in a cold sweat. 

 

Yahaba in real life remains just as infuriating as always. True to his word, though, Kyoutani makes a real effort to get along with him. He shows up to practice on time, tries not to get into arguments with anyone – but it’s hard when the person he wants to argue with the most is his own captain. 

So he doesn’t like him. His subconscious mind can dream about whatever it wants, but Kyoutani most certainly doesn’t want Yahaba. 

He’s just a little bit too put-together for it to be real. He’s fake, is the problem. Kyoutani knows it’s all an act. He tells him as much one day, during a particularly fierce argument that started over something stupid and spiraled into a much worse conflict than Kyoutani intended. 

“I’m what?” Yahaba demands, his voice reaching ever-higher frequencies. 

“Fake,” Kyoutani repeats. “You pretend to be this – this perfect prissy model student. But I know that ain’t what you’re really like.”

Yahaba folds his arms across his chest, stares coldly. “You don’t know anything about me, actually.”

And there’s no way for Kyoutani to argue with that without sounding weird, so he slams his locker shut and shoves past Yahaba, bumping him hard with his shoulder on the way out. He ignores Yahaba’s yelp of protest.

He has another dream that night.

Dream-Yahaba is subtly different from the real thing. His eyes are coyer, his smile sly and teasing. Kyoutani barely knows what the real Yahaba’s smile looks like, it’s so rarely directed at him. 

In his dream, the same scene plays out again – except Yahaba smiles that strange smile and says, “Want to know what I’m really like, Kyoutani?”

When he wakes up, staring hard at the dark of his ceiling, he’s horrified to find that the answer is yes – he does want to know. 

 

He’s getting yelled at again. 

“Your spikes are still too wild,” Yahaba’s saying, his hands on his hips. He looks much more annoyed than Kyoutani thinks the situation calls for. 

“Maybe if your tosses were more precise,” Kyoutani mutters under his breath. He doesn’t really intend for it to be heard, but Yahaba instantly goes pale. 

“What was that?” He says, in that low, calm voice that means he’s really gearing up for an argument. 

Well, he said it, and now he has to commit to it. “You heard me,” Kyoutani says. 

“I did.” Yahaba bounces the volleyball once, hard, walking closer to him. “So you have a problem with my tosses?”

Kyoutani’s vaguely aware that practice has stopped around them. Yahaba is as close now as he gets in his dreams, but he’s definitely not smiling at the moment. 

“Guys,” Kindaichi is saying, tentatively. “Shouldn’t we get back to practice? The coaches are watching….”

Kyoutani can’t take his eyes off Yahaba’s. 

“Well?” The other boy says. “Do you?”

They’re still staring at each other. The gym’s gone eerily quiet. 

“Maybe,” Kyoutani says. His voice comes out weirdly soft. 

“Then you can just –”

Kyoutani cuts him off with a kiss. 

He doesn’t quite hit Yahaba’s mouth – his kiss lands awkwardly somewhere on his cheek instead. He rocks backwards on his feet and kind of wants to die. It’s nothing like his dreams – Yahaba is blinking rapidly, wide-eyed, his hand coming up to touch where Kyoutani’s mouth had been. No one in the gym says a word. 

Kyoutani does the only thing he can, and runs. 

 

He barely sleeps at all that night, and when he does his dreams are peppered with the sensory memory of Yahaba’s soft skin. In the morning, he lays in bed longer than usual and wonders if his dreams could ever become reality. 

Probably not. 

He thinks about it all day during classes, and in the end decides to skip practice for the first time since Yahaba became captain. After school finds him joining the members of the go-home club, and he’s nearly halfway to his house before Yahaba tracks him down. He’s pulled to a sudden stop by the other boy’s hand on his arm. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yahaba asks. Kyoutani can tell he’s trying for intimidation, but it’s tempered slightly by the fact that he’s panting heavily. 

Kyoutani jostles his arm free from Yahaba’s grasp, shrugs one shoulder. 

“Figured you wouldn’t want to see me,” he says. It sounds kind of pathetic, he realizes. “Figured you’d be mad.”

Yahaba sighs, exasperated. “When has that ever stopped you before?”

“This is different, isn’t it?”

“Why? Because you kissed me?” They’ve both stopped walking. Yahaba glares at him. “What was that about, anyway?”

Kyoutani vaguely wishes the ground would open up under him. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” It’s his turn to glare. 

Yahaba goes a little pink around the edges. He chews on his lip rather distractingly. “So you…what? Like me? That way?”

He sounds disbelieving. Kyoutani looks up at the sky, more to avoid eye contact than anything else. “I guess. For some reason.”

When Yahaba says nothing, Kyoutani risks a glance at him. He’s gone significantly pinker. 

“Well,” he says finally. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Kyoutani’s heart sinks. 

“But…I suppose…I wouldn’t mind if you tried it again, sometime.”

When Kyoutani looks up, surprised, Yahaba is smiling. It’s not sly or teasing. It’s lopsided and shy. 

Kyoutani likes this one better.

**Author's Note:**

> just a short little kyouhaba this time!   
> title from no one's better sake by little joy  
> thanks for reading!! :)


End file.
